


Batman begins

by Keats112



Series: Batman and Joker Begin [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Drinking to Cope, Funeral of Bruces parents, Other, Tissues ready, very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-01-18 06:37:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12382896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keats112/pseuds/Keats112
Summary: Bruce is only a young boy. This takes place after his parents murder. This deals with the funeral.





	1. Funeral

It was a beautiful late autumn day. The air all around was warm and balmy. A gentle breeze blew over the ripe cornfield, pretty blue cornflowers peeking through the heavy golden heads. The apple trees branches bent and creaking ladened down with shiny red apples bursting with sweetness. Bees were lazily buzzing around the late summer blooms, collecting the last of this years nectar. The skies were a clear azure with small wispy white clouds. The sun was bright and warm. A perfect day for lovers and poets. A day such as this is a rare gift to all. A day to gladden the soul and to heal wounds. Such days as this should never be marred by anger, pain or sorrow. Unfortunately on this wonderful day, for one small boy it was the case.

 

Dressed all in black, hair combed and perfect, his shoes shined to the point of being mirrored; Bruce Wayne followed the horse drawn carriage along the road. He was a small and slim boy with dark brown hair, pale skin and big blue eyes. His eyes were a match to the heavens above him. He was very solemn as he slowly walked behind his parents funeral cortege, heading towards Gotham's cemetery. His eyes were downcast, dry, unseeing. He robotically placed one foot in front of the other. Left, right, left, right. He felt numb, overwhelmed and angry. As the last living Wayne he had a responsibility and reputation to uphold. He felt he shouldn’t show any weakness, he wanted to be like his father; a strong and respected man. He had been strong throughout the service at Gotham Cathedral,he had never shed a tear. He had read Psalm 23 with only the smallest of quivers in his voice. He had been told by his father's peers,  
“Your father would have been proud of you, Bruce.”

 

As he approached the graves, and his parents coffins were carried down to their final resting place, he no longer felt strong or brave. He simply stood there, feeling the warm breeze gently caress his skin, “Like mom,” he absently thought. He couldn’t take his eyes from her casket. Martha Wayne, his mom. He would never be able to hear her voice, her laughter nor see her wonderful smile again. No more would he feel her gentle embrace and tender loving kiss upon his head as he snuggled down warm and secure in his bed. Nor would he smell her perfume, hold her hand or feel her gentle heart beat when she would hold him close after a nightmare.   
All those precious moment, cruelly taken from him. Ripped away, torn, broken, lost, forever.   
Tears prickled his eyes; he quickly fisted them away. He tried to keep them at bay but to no avail. His heartbeat was strong and hard, his breath wheezed as he tried to gain control of his emotions. He watched as her coffin was slowly lowered into her grave. He could hear his blood whistling in his ears as his heartbeat increased. He could barely take in a breath, the air felt too thick.   
“Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust….” The priest's voice droned on. Bruce felt dizzy, sick and suddenly very frightened. He stumbled back in a near faint. Strong hands caught him, held him, hugged him.   
.  
Bruce looked up to see who it was that had caught him . It was Alfred, his loyal old butler. He had always been there for as long as Bruce could remember. A strong, steady and reliable presence. He was astonished to see Alfred such a stoic man, crying like a baby. Large tears rolled down the old man's face,as he turned his eyes towards the little boy he hugged to his aching chest.   
“Poor master Bruce,” He thought to himself. “So very young and small. Such a shame, such a bloody tragedy!”.   
He stroked Bruce’s hair, trying to be some sort of comfort. He could see how much the boy was trying to not break down. He felt as if his heart had broken, Bruce had had such a beautiful smile. He would always be laughing and playing in the carefree way of childhood. The boy whom he held now was broken. A small yet intense flame of fury ignited in his hurting heart. He bent down to be face to face with Bruce. He took the boy's face into both of his hands, wiped away his tears and made him a promise, one he would never break.  
“Master Bruce, I swear to you I will never leave you. I will be whatever you need me to be. I will do whatever you need of me. I love you.”

Bruce just stared at Alfred unable to comprehend what he was hearing. All he knew is he felt hemmed in,claustrophobic. He pushed Alfred's hands away from him. He then turned around noticing for the first time how many people they were at his parents funeral. He started to panic, the need to get away from there increasing by the second.   
“Bruce...look at me! concentrate solely on me. It’s ok..”  
“NO! IT ISN’T OK ALFRED!!.. It will never be ok again.” Bruce screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice quickly dropped into a whisper. His hands curled into fists as he lost his temper. He lashed out at Alfred punching and kicking him with all his strength and impotent rage. He was screaming incoherently, working on an animal level. Alfred managed to subdue Bruce after a short while, trying to hold him once more. Bruce managed to wriggle from his grasp, his eyes wide and glassy, like a small trapped animal. With a great cry he took off running.

He didn’t know how long he had been running for, all he knew was maybe, just maybe he could out run this dark evil monster that seemed to be living inside of him. He didn’t know where he was going only that he had to keep moving. He felt the wind in his hair and taste the salt of his tears. He could hear distant voices calling to him, he paid them no heed.  
Blinded by tears he was unaware of the danger up ahead. An old rotten wooden board, hidden by the tall grass, covered an old well shaft. Bruce stepped onto the board and it snapped in two under his feet. Bruce fell into a black abyss tumbling down onto darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce lays injured and bleeding in a cave. Lots of horror..remember he is a young boy. not recomended for anyone under 15.

Bruce woke up in the dark, his heart was thudding in his chest.  
“Mommy, MOMMY!” He shouted at the top of his lungs, fear of being alone eating away his insides. A large shadow loomed in front of him, causing Bruce’s breath to hitch.  
The light went on in his bedroom and there stood his mother. Concern etched on her pretty delicate features. She raced to his side and hugged Bruce to her chest. His fears instantly vanished, feeling safe and warm in her comforting embrace.  
“There, there honeypie. It’s ok, it’s ok. See there's nothing to be scared of.” she whispered as she rocked him gently. He nodded his head as he breathed in her perfume, and snuggled closer into her. They sat there for awhile his mom humming a lullaby, Bruce looked up at her and smiled. He started to play with the buttons on her purple cardigan. She smiled down at him, her light green eyes sparkling with love for her only child.  
“Well now, are you feeling better sweetness?” she asked him, a little laughter in her voice.  
Bruce nodded.  
“Did you have a bad dream?” Bruce nodded again. Martha decided to wait to see if her little boy would tell her what the dream was about.  
“I dreamed you and daddy were taken away by a bad man, and I was left all alone.” Bruce started to cry again.  
“Oh my darling, it was only a dream! I promise I will never leave you. I love my little pudding so much.”  
She put Bruce back into his bed and tucked him in. Bruce held out his little arms wanting one more hug. She bent over hugged him and kissed him on his lips.  
“Oh mommy, you got your lipstick all over me now!” He giggled as he rubbed the red lipstick away.  
“Is that so?” She kissed him all over his face, leaving lipstick everywhere. She tickled him,both of them giggling.  
“I love you mommy.”  
“I love you too Bru…..”  
A red rose appeared on her chest, right over her heart, she fell away from him. The rose grew turning onto a bleeding bullet hole.  
“Mommy?” Bruce asked in a quivering voice.  
BANG….BANG.

Bruce woke up with a start, his heart drumming. He was very confused. Where was he? Where was his mommy?  
“Mommy? M-MOMMY!!”. Bruce screamed at the top of his lungs. He could hardly see in the near pitch darkness. The only light came from the hole he had fallen through, thirty feet above him. In his rising panic Bruce attempted to stand up. A sharp glassy pain shot up through his leg. He screamed in agony, as he grasped at where the pain radiated out from. He looked at his left leg, it was broken below the knee. He had landed on rocks, blood pooled around his injured leg. The femur bone had torn through muscle and skin, causing more than substantial damage. The pain was overwhelming and all Bruce could do was cry. 

 

As he clutched at his broken leg, Bruce heard a noise in the dark. A scratching, fluttering sound. He strained to hear more,and tried to maybe make his eyes see better in the dark. His head had started to pound, he reached up to where it hurt. An egg sized lump had formed on the back of his skull. He felt faint and nauseous. He had never felt this amount of pain in his life before. He decided to try and get help.

“Alfred! ALFRED? ARE YOU THERE? Please, please be there….ALFRED? HELP, I’M DOWN HERE. ALFRED ...PLEASE!!”  
Desperation made Bruce scream. His eyes bugged out as he prayed Alfred was there.  
* Alfred would come to his rescue. He promised . ..he promised to always look after him and to love him. Alfred wouldn't break his promise.*  
The scratching sound started again, this time a little louder. Bruce’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest. What could it be? How close was it? His head whipped left and right, trying to see all around him. He really couldn’t see much of anything. The light from the hole was rapidly changing. It would soon be night, then what would he do?  
Scratch..scratch.  
Bruce was terrified.* What if it’s rats? *

As he thought this a flood of rats came running towards him, attracted by the smell of his blood and adrenalin. Their little beady eyes looked at him as they scurried over his helpless form. Their tails whipped at his face as they scrambled over him looking to eat him alive.As he opened his mouth to scream, a large black rat dived into his orifice. It pushed its hairy greasy body down his throat, snapping at his tounge. Another rat was eating through his stomach as another ate his leg. He couldn’t breath as he felt the rat slowly descend through his oesophagus. Tears poured down his face as he tried to breath. Excruciating pain wracked his body. He twisted and turned trying to dislodge the filthy creatures. Try as he may they clung onto him tenaciously. He could no longer breath,his efforts were exhausting him. He was on the verge of collapse, his vision closing down. That was when he saw a huge black beast rise up from the floor of the cave. It sleek fur and long worm like tail twitching with unreleased energy. It’s two evil red eyes focused entirely on him. It bared it’s enormous white teeth and pounced.  
It’s teeth clamped down onto Bruce's throat, ripping it out. His blood spurted out from the gaping hole sending the rest of the hord into an excited frenzy. His body spasmed uncontrollably in it’s final fight for survival. The last thing he thought about was his father.

 

The sudden sharp shock of the pain, woke Bruce from his delirium. His breath came out as panicked whimpers as he ran his hands all over his body,looking for the rats. His hands flew to his neck. No wounds. He quickly scanned the cave floor. No rats. They never were any rats. Just a dream...a nightmare. He breathed a sigh of short lived relief. He ached all over.His leg hurt most of all.. In his fear he had hit his fractured leg against the rock that had broken it. He grasped it, hoping to alleviate some of the pain. It had started to bleed again, this time the rate of the flow had increased. The light from the hole was nearly gone now. He could hardly see the area around. It worried him.  
*What would Dad do? *  
Although he was eight years old, he was still a young child, and he was still very much afraid of the dark. He felt very ill, frightened and cold. He pulled his jacket further around his shivering body trying to gain some warmth. He put his fingers in his mouth, absently sucking them for comfort. He was thinking about his father, how he would always come to his rescue. He wished he could hear his voice again.

“Bruce….BRUCE!” He jumped out of his skin. A shape had formed out of the darkness. It stood 10 feet away from him. He could barely make it out. If he stared straight at it, it disappeared. If he looked slightly away, there it was.  
“Stop staring boy.Take your finger out of your mouth, you’re not a baby are you?” Bruce immediately obeyed.  
“Daddy? Daddy..I- I don’t understand! I-I t-thought you had gone to heaven with mommy?”  
“ Bruce, listen to me..” His father sounded very stern.  
“Help me Daddy...I can’t get out..” Bruce begged, tears cascading down his cheeks cutting clean tracks through the dirt smeared all over his face.  
“BRUCE LISTEN TO ME BOY!!” His father shouted. This was the voice Bruce obeyed without question or hesitation. To do so would have incurred a terrible punishment.  
“You need to stop blubbering, right now. Do you understand me?”  
Bruce nodded his fingers drifting up to him mouth again.  
“You have to stop the bleeding in your leg Bruce. Can you remember how to do that?”  
Bruce nodded, concentrating on what his father was saying.  
“I need to tie something around my leg...above? Where it’s bleeding?”  
“That’s right Bruce. It’s called a torque. What can you use?”  
Bruce looked around him all he could really see where rocks. He checked his pockets..nothing. He started to whimper worried about incurring his father’s wrath. With an audible huff his father answered his own question.  
“Your tie Bruce.”  
“My tie? ..Oh of course!” He proceeded to wrap his tie just above his injury, effectively cutting off the blood flow. The pain was sharp and immense. It made him feel very sick, his vision started to fade.  
“Oh! Help me..”  
“You’ve done well Bruce.I have to go now. Be good and make me proud.”

His father’s figure faded from his sight leaving him alone once more in the dark.  
“Don’t leave me...Please...DADDY!” Bruce’s shout was so loud it bounced and echoed around the cave. He started to cry, great heaving sobs. He was terrified. No one was coming, he was going to die down here all alone.  
“Please, help me! Someone. Help me….I’ll be a good boy..I promise. Please!”

Just at the edge of his hearing, he could hear a faint scratching, rustling sound.The scratching sound became louder. Coming rapidly closer. A fluttering sound proceeded it. Bruce scrambled around looking for a weapon. He wasn't too sure if this was his dream come true, but he wasn’t going to be eaten alive by rats.  
As his hands closed around a large rock, a black cloud burst out from where his father's shadow had stood. He was suddenly surrounded by hundreds of squeaking bats. Their small hairy bodies were brushing against his face. In a blind panic, Bruce flailed his arms all around him,trying to fend off the onslaught. The bats wings beat at his face, some of them nipped his fingers and his cheeks drawing blood. All Bruce could see was there glowing green eyes and their small sharp teeth. He didn’t scream for fear of one gaining access to his mouth, the image of his nightmare crystal clear in his memory. He could smell a sharp rancid scent the bats had carried with them. It was so strong he started to gag, he could almost taste it. He hadn’t realised he had been holding his breath. He took in a shuddering breath as one of the bats headed straight for his face. 

“Bruce...Wake up sweetheart. It’s ok, it was just a nightmare.” His mother held him in her arms. Her beautiful eyes were the only thing he could, or even wanted to see. He felt warm and safe in her arms. She smiled at him, her wonderful smile. He had missed that smile.  
“Mommy..are you really here?”  
“Oh my sweet little boy. My angel, of course I am.”  
“I thought I was all alone in a dark cave….I was hurt...y- -you and daddy were….were..” Bruce trailed off. Tears stung his eyes. His heart thrummed in his chest, then broke.  
“Bruce my darling, you have to wake up. It’s very important that you do.”  
“No! I don’t want to..I--I want to stay here with you.”  
“You have to Bruce. You have important work ahead of you. Come on now. You’re my big brave boy.”  
Bruce shook his head. He refused to wake up. Why should he? All there was, was pain fear, loneliness and the dark. All he wanted was to stay in his mother's embrace. Why did she have to go away? It wasn’t fair! Nothing about this was fair. His hands clutched onto her.  
“No...NO I WILL NOT WAKE UP. I WON’T LET YOU LEAVE ME AGAIN!” Sudden anger swelled up in his chest. No one was going to take her away again. NO ONE!! 

“I won’t let you go..I won’t, I won’t, I won’t!” he snarled through gritted teeth. His breath hitching.  
He could feel his mother stroking his face trying to calm him.  
“Bruce, wake up. Wake up now. Wake u…”  
A loud screech echoed through the cave. Bruce woke with a start. His mother was gone again. He felt bereft and so very angry. The bats had gone whilst he had been unconscious. His eyes felt as though they were made of sandpaper. His throat was scratchy and dry. He could still smell the foul odor if the bats. His wounds were full of guano. His stomach rolled and heaved. He vomited down the front of himself, he felt very very dizzy. He needed water, but if he tried to move it would cause waves of glassy pain and nausea. He could feel something warm trickling down his shirt. He had hit his head again, this time causing an open wound. He had sustained a serious concussion. He groggily glanced around him. Nearly unconscious he could just hear the sound of running water not too far away. It may have well been the other side of the planet to poor Bruce. The only thought he had was of his mother. How they used to laugh together, how she would pick him up and kiss him all over. She had been painting a picture just before she had died. It was of an apple orchard, a family were having a picnic under a great old twisted tree. It was in Bruce's bedroom, where it would always be...unfinished. 

Bruce’s head rolled on his shoulders, looking towards where his father had been stood. Bruce blinked, surely he wasn’t seeing what he thought he saw. A huge shadow stood in the cave opening. It was impossibly large. Easily eight feet tall.  
*No..it’s not possible. I’m dreaming again* Bruce thought to himself. He shook his head, trying to clear his vision. It was a mistake. His head ached so badly he could feel his eyes pulse, to the beat of his heart. He vomited again, retching as nothing but foul tasting bile burned the back of his throat. With a shaking hand he tried to clean himself up. He felt a strong wind at his back,he turned his head slowly in that direction. The black shadow was flying straight towards him, its wingspan far larger than was physically possible. Its eyes glowed a devilish red as it landed beside him. The sight petrified Bruce and froze him to the core. The shadow opened it’s mouth screeched, then wrapped its leathery wings around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank Melamungous, Irisbleu.fic and Emma839 for their invaluble help with this chapter. Without them I don't think I would have been able to finish.  
> Mel, thnks for the encouragment and support.  
> AJ, thanks for all the advice and ideas.  
> Last but not least, thanks Emma for reading through this for me and giving me the best ending.  
> I love you all xx


	3. Batman Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter..at last! Hope you all enjoy it xx

BOOM……...BOOM  
Bruce was warm.  
BOOM……...BOOM  
Bruce was safe.  
BOOM……...BOOM  
Bruce opened up his eyes to the darkness.  
He felt the soft, warm covers wrapped around him. He snuggled lower into his bed, smiling knowing very soon Alfred would be coming to wake him up. As he thought this as if on cue, Alfred walked into the room. Bruce hid under the covers giggling silently.He was going to make Alfred jump. Alfred opened the drapes, to allow the early morning sun into the bedroom. He could see Bruce under the covers, squirming around. Waiting for the chance to jump out on him, no doubt. He was feeling very indulgent. 

“Good morning Master Bruce. How are we this morning….My goodness where could the young master have gone?” He could hear Bruce's laughter rising in volume.   
“Well he doesn’t seem to be here! I suppose I should eat his breakfast myself. Oh well! It was his favorite too. Scrambled eggs and French toast. I'll be leaving now.” Alfred started to leave a huge grin plastered to his face. The rustling of bed clothes could be heard behind him. Suddenly Bruce dived on top of Alfred.  
“BOO! Did I scare you?” Bruce asked laughing all the while. His arms hugging Alfred’s neck.  
“Arghhhhh! My goodness Bruce! You scared the life out of me!” He clutched at his chest feigning a heart attack. They both fell back in a fit of giggles.   
“Well it seems someone’s in a good mood” Alfred mussed up Bruce's hair.  
“I had an amazing dream Alfred!”  
“Did you? Well that's very nice..”  
“It was really exciting.” Bruce bounced up and down on the bed. “Wanna hear it?” He asked growing more excited and bouncy by the second.   
“Of course I do, what a silly question Master Bruce!” Alfred smiled lovingly at the young boy.  
“OK! Well… there was this bad guy. He wore a bandanna over his mouth and he had a gun. He had a pretty girl tied to a train track, and the train was coming. ..choo,choo” Bruce made the sound of the train coming down the tracks.   
“So I was there and I wore a big hat and a muffler and a big coat….  
Like the shadow! Except I'm not the Shadow. I'm the Masked Avenger!” Bruce was steadily growing more excited the more into his story he went.  
“So, there we were me and him. The train was getting closer and closer. I looked him right in the eye and I said, * It's over bad guy, hand over the girl. * He stood and laughed then he shot at me with his gun…..BANG, BANG. So, I dodged out if the way and punched him hard in the face. He dropped the gun and ran away. The girl suddenly screamed and I jumped to her rescue. I untied her quickly and pulled her up. The train shot passed us. She hugged me and said *Oh Masked Avenger, you're my hero!*. We then flew away. .ya know cause I can fly!” Bruce jumped off his bed at the end of his story. Alfred was laughing so much he wiped a tear from his eye.  
“What a wonderful dream Bruce. I do love to hear your stories. Now it's time for you to get your morning shower and have your breakfast young man. I expect you in the kitchen in twenty minutes.” At that Bruce raced from his bedroom towards the bathroom.

As he raced to the bathroom he nearly collide with his father.   
“ Woooh there champ! Hold your horses!” His father Thomas Wayne caught hold of Bruce by the back of his pajamas.   
“Where are you going in such a rush?”  
Bruce looked up to his father, he wasn’t sure if he was mad with him or not.  
“I-I was just going to the bathroom, to get a shower and brush my teeth.” He solemnly looked up to his father.   
“Well - slow down ok. You don’t want to have an accident do you?” Thomas smiled at his son and patted him on the back. Bruce slowly walked down the hall, looking back over his shoulder. When his father wasn't looking he raced down the hall once again. He quickly jumped into the shower singing his favorite song “Gettin’ jiggy with it” at the top of his lungs.

After he dressed himself he went down stairs via the banister. He slid all the way down, jumping off and pretending to fly. As he headed off towards the kitchen, drawn there by the mouth watering smells of bacon, eggs and cinnamon on the French toast; he overheard his mother shouting at someone in the living room. The door wasn’t fully closed, so Bruce put his eye to the crack. 

His Father was stood by the mantle, arms on his hips. He always took this pose when he was angry. His mother, Martha was pacing back and forth, she was incandescent.   
“I have had enough of this Tom. I can no longer tolerate this constant aggravation..” Martha turned her face towards her husband.   
“Have you even considered your son in all of this? Well? Have you?”  
“Of course I have! Do I seem to be an idiot to you?”   
“Honestly Tom...YES! YES YOU DO!” Martha’s voice rose in volume as she stepped towards Thomas. She was chest to chest with him now, a snarl curled her lip.  
“H-HOW DARE YOU!?” Thomas ejaculated.  
“I will not be spoken to like that! Not by you, not ANYONE!”  
His hands had curled into fists at his side, he was screaming into her face. Bruce jumped back feeling rather small and weak.   
*Is Daddy going to hit my mommy?* Bruce wondered. He suddenly felt all hot especially in his chest.  
“Oohh! I think I can speak to you anyway I wish...Thomas.” She looked down at his curled fists.  
“Are you going to hit me? Thomas?” A very dangerous smile had started to spread over her pretty face. Somehow she managed to get closer. She lifted her chin and looked her husband straight in the eye.  
“Go on then! Hit...Me! I want you to! ….What are you waiting for….HIT ME!!!”  
Bruce burst into the room, he ran straight towards his father.  
“DON’T YOU HURT MY MOMMY!” His little fists were flying around. His father caught him so Bruce stated kicking out at him. Tears were coursing down his cheeks. “Bruce stop!” His father shouted. He tried to bite his father. Bruce felt someone's arm encircle his waist.   
“Bruce, pudding. It's OK. Your daddy won't hurt me.” His mother's gentle voice calmed him. He stopped attacking; instead sobbing he turned to his mother hugging her tightly. She took him out of the room.  
“Let’s get some breakfast honey pie.” She cooed gently.  
“We’re not done Martha!” Thomas called out. Martha stopped and turned her head.  
“Oh! Yes we are Thomas. We are so done!” She turned back to her only son and left the room.

 

Bruce was getting more and more excited for that evening. For some reason his parents had decided to take him out to the theatre tonight. The new film Zorro was playing he just couldn’t wait. Zorro was his second best hero.  
Bruce was running around with a towel tied around his neck as a cape and one of his mom's fancy masks on. Sure it wasn't black but it didn't matter. He used a rolled up newspaper as a sword. All thoughts of that morning had been dispelled. Feeling a little lonely he went off to find a playmate.

Alfred was in the music room dusting the grand piano. Bruce snuck up behind him, brandishing his paper sword.   
“Hands up bad guy drop your weapon.” Alfred whipped round duster in hand   
“Engard Masked Avenger!” he swiped the duster at Bruce's sword.   
“So bad guy, we shall have the greatest sword fight of all time.” Bruce exclaimed in a bad Spanish accent as he thrust his sword at Alfred.   
“Ha! You cannot defeat the Great Soprendo!” chortle Alfred.   
“The Masked Avenger and The Great Soprendo had an epic fight. They thrust and parried across the Mexican desert, neither giving way to the other. At last when the sun was setting the Masked Avenger gave one final thrust with his mighty sword,”  
Bruce had been jumping all over the room whilst he narrated his story. He thrust out his sword and Alfred put it between his arm and side and fell to the floor.  
“I admit defeat to your superior skill...now I die urgh!”   
Bruce dived on top of Alfred laughing. Alfred started to laugh too.

“Alfred,” Thomas voice was heard coming towards the music room.   
Alfred quickly gained his feet adjusting himself and smoothing down his hair.  
“You’d best hurry along Master Wayne” Alfred gave Bruce a wink, as his father entered the room.  
“Alfred have you seen….Bruce!” there was an awkward silence. Bruce looked at his feet.  
“I’m sorry dad…..for earlier.” His father stood and considered his son for a moment; a mounting pride was building up in him. Bruce had shown courage in defending his mother and now he was apologizing for his perceived mistake.  
“ Son… there's no need to apologies, I'm very proud of you.” He opened his arms, and with a smile Bruce jumped into his father's embrace. For those few precious moments as Bruce clung to his father; he committed to memory the smell of his cologne, how strong and gentle he was and how his father's heartbeat sounded..Boom…..Boom. 

Bruce found his mother in her art studio. She was busy painting a beautiful apple orchard. A happy family was having a picnic under an old and twisted tree. The apples seemed to bend its branches towards the unfinished mother. She was so engrossed in her work; she didn't hear her son creep up behind her. Bruce was giggling; he wanted to make her jump too. He was just about to pounce when he saw the painting. His eyes went wide; he had never seen anything so beautiful in his short life. He stood there enraptured and enchanted by his mother's creation. He drifted closer watching each and every brush stroke his mother applied to the canvas. The colors seemed to dance and swirl. A strike of green on a blade of grass, a rosy hue on the cheek of the angelic child, running happily through the gently falling leaves of the tree. The tree itself seemed almost alive. He was so captivated; all he could utter was a hushed gasp.  
Martha paused, paintbrush in hand she turned to her son.  
“Hello, darling.” Her smile was like the sun coming out from behind dark clouds. Bruce couldn’t help but smile back.  
“Mommy...it’s beautiful.” He said looking back at the magical painting.   
“You think so?” Martha asked genuinely interested in her son's opinion. To her it was the only one that counted. She stretched out her arms, Bruce fell into them. He snuggled close into her, climbing into her lap. Her embrace was like heaven to him.   
“It’s not as beautiful as you” Bruce said as he looked at her in pure adoration. He felt he could never be as happy as he was right now.   
“Oh Bruce! Nothing I could ever paint would be as perfect as you. You’re my masterpiece.” She kissed his cheek and hugged him tighter. They sat in a comfortable silence, both enjoying this special moment in time.   
“Pudding,” Martha spoke in a hesitant way, “About this morning..About what you heard”  
Bruce looked up. Worry had creased up his mother's forehead. Bruce didn’t want to hear what she was about to say. He knew it was a bad thing, if it made her worry like that. He hugged her neck and buried his head in her shoulder. Her perfume surrounded him, April Violets.   
“Honey pie. You know both Daddy and I love you, don’t you?” Bruce only nodded wishing the silence would come back.  
“Ok. Sometimes….sometimes grownups can get a little mad with each other. We don’t mean what we say. You’re daddy...and I ...well ..”  
Bruce really didn't want to hear what she was about to say, so he kissed her words away. When he looked into her eyes he was very alarmed to see tears.   
“I love you mommy, I also loved daddy and Alfred and..and..” He spoke very fast, almost in a panic. He really didn’t like the squirmy feeling in his guts.  
“I love you too Bruce” she could see the rising panic in his face.  
“Hey, it’s ok….it’s ok. Come on now.” She rocked him soothing his fears, regretting bringing up the morning's incident.  
“I know how's about we play a game? You can be…” she waited for his response  
“I’m the Masked Avenger, and you’re my..erm.. Sidekick..erm” Bruce tried to think of a great name for his mother.  
“What about….the Scarlett Rose?”  
“Yes!! Now we are after the guy with the funny face…” 

 

It was already dark when Alfred drove the Wayne family to the Monarch Theater. It was almost eight o’clock, nearly time for Zorro to begin. Bruce bounced out of the car as soon as Alfred opened the door. He ran up the stairs towards the entrance, waiting impatiently for his parents to catch up. His mother stepped out first; she smiled sweetly at Bruce, her finger twirling around her favorite pearl necklace. Thomas exited after her, standing tall and proud. Next to his wife Thomas Wayne looked like a giant. He glanced at Martha, an apologetic look in his eye. She whispered something to him; a sour grimace crossed his features. Whatever she had said had made him angry. He stormed ahead of her. She caught him up, and hooked her arm through his. He looked as if he would shrug her off.   
“Don’t you dare? This night isn't about you or me, it’s about Bruce. Do not spoil this for him. “She warned. They both smiled at Bruce with genuine love.  
“You ready champ?” Bruce nodded enthusiastically completely unaware of what had transpired between his parents.

They sat in the middle row, his mother on his left his father on his right. Both were ladened with candy, popcorn and drinks. The lights went down, curtains opened and the movie starring Antonio Banderas and Catherine Zeta Jones started. Bruce was hooked to the silver screen immediately. 

At first they all were enjoying the movie; Martha was enjoying watching Bruce's reactions. His hand dipping in and out of the popcorn bucket, unthinkingly. Every time Zorro would chase the bad guy or he would fight with his sword, Bruce would lean forward excitement gleaming in his big blue eyes. Her enjoyment was interrupted when she noticed her husband checking his watch every few moments. At first it was just a mild irritation, she sincerely hoped he wasn’t about to do something to destroy their night.  
“Martha.” Thomas leaned back tapping his wife's on the shoulder, so as not to interrupt Bruce.  
“I have to go...to the bathroom.” She nodded. As he left she checked her own watch.  
*If he's not back in five minutes..* She thought.

Twenty minutes had passed since Thomas had stepped out to use the bathroom. Martha knew he was up to something. He had sworn not to for tonight. He knew this night was for Bruce's benefit. Anger coursed through her veins, she glanced around her, at the full theater. She needed to find out where her husband was. She glanced at Bruce. She couldn’t leave him alone, he was far too young. *Damn him* she thought.  
There wasn’t much longer to go the film was almost over. She would find him when it finished. She certainly wasn’t going to ruin this for Bruce.   
As the movie finished and the lights came up Bruce was enthusiastically clapping his hands, His face was flushed and his eyes gleamed. This was by far the best movie he had ever seen. He looked over to his mother a big dopey smile plaster there; he then glanced to where his father should have been. He was a little puzzled, where was he?  
“You’re daddy just went to the bathroom pudding, come on we’ll go and look for him.” She smiled, stood up and took Bruce’s small hand in hers. They made their way to the lobby, with all the people milling around it was impossible to see if Thomas was there. Martha and Bruce waited until the area was clear. There was no sign of him.   
“Mrs. Wayne?” A short rather portly gentleman approached them.  
“Yes?”   
“Your husband Mr. Wayne was last seen heading out of the back of the theater, to Park Row. I’m not sure what he was about...I hope it’s not…” He trailed off looking sheepish. Martha felt the color drain from her face. Her heart stopped for a second.   
“Erm...t-thank you...I’ll just..” She stuttered heading for the back entrance dragging Bruce with her.  
“Please be careful Mrs. Wayne, it’s not known as Crime Alley for nothing. Would you like me to keep your son here for you?” The small man called to Martha's retreating back. She never heard him. 

As both mother and son stepped out into Park Row, Thomas was in the shadows engaged in a heated conversation with another individual. Bruce could see them; pulling out of his mother's grasp he started to head over to them. Martha noticed what her son was doing and grabbed him back to her quickly.  
“Bruce, I need you to stay very quite. Don’t say a word and stay behind me, no matter what happens. Do you understand? If you do just nod.” Martha whispered, looking Bruce in the eye. He could see how very serious his mother was and so he nodded just as she had asked.   
“Good, now we're going over there, keep behind me.”  
Martha slowly made her way over to her husband, her son holding onto her coat.  
Bruce could make out the stranger talking to his father; he wore a large hat and a muffler. He looked like a bad guy. Bruce hoped he didn’t have a gun. He felt a little scared not like the Masked Avenger at all.

“Thomas?” Martha called to her husband. Both men turned to her. Thomas looked very shocked.  
The stranger looked back at Thomas, his eyes angry and suspicious.  
“You told me you were here alone Mr. Wayne.” The stranger sneered.  
“Just wait..Martha” He rapidly walked to meet his wife. “You shouldn’t be here!”   
“Is this what I think it is Thomas?” Martha asked, shock and revulsion evident in her voice and demeanor  
“Take Bruce back inside and I’ll meet you there...it’s not safe here.” He took hold of Martha's arm steering her towards the door. Bruce suddenly screamed, the stranger had followed Thomas and now had a gun trained on his father.  
“We agreed on one else was supposed to be here, Wayne. You know what Maroni’s price was.” Thomas turned around, his hands in the air.  
“Maroni? Thomas you absolute arse.” Martha said to her husband, she pushed Bruce behind her, backing away from Maroni’s hired man.  
“I swear, I didn’t think they would follow me.”  
“That’s always been your problem Wayne, you never think, ha,ha,ha.” The stranger laughed in Thomas’s face.  
“I will not be talked to like that!” Thomas blurted out. A shocked silence descended. The criminal tightened his grip on his gun.  
“You really are a stupid fuck aren’t you?”He said through gritted teeth. Thomas’s cheeks reddened with rage and embarrassment. He dived towards the criminal as a shot rang through the air. Thomas grabbed at his chest, blood spilt through his fingers, he turned towards his wife and son as he crumpled to the alley floor. Martha and Bruce watched him fall. The criminal started to laugh loudly. They turned their heads towards him.  
“Stupid bastard..ha, ha, fucking idiot!!” He shot Thomas again in his glee. Martha blocked Bruce from the sight with her body, her eyes never leaving the murderer in front of her. She was trying to work out away both Bruce and she could possibly get out of this situation alive.   
“See...You see that?” He addressed Martha, “That’s what happens when you piss off Maroni!”He laughed again, waving his gun at her. Bruce was whimpering he had never been so scared in his life. He wished Zorro or the Shadow would come to rescue him and his mommy right now. His mother took hold of his hand and gave it a squeeze. With her eyes fixed firmly on the murder she whispered to her son.  
“I need you to be very brave baby. When I let go of your hand I need you to run, run as fast as you can and don’t look back.” She counted to three and let go of Bruce. At first he didn’t move until his mother shouted “Run Bruce..” At that he turned tail and ran. 

 

What Bruce didn’t know was the man had turned his gun on him. The murderer's fingers had started to squeeze the trigger as Martha jumped on top of him, trying to wrestle the gun from his grasp. Within moments the gun went off with a deafening roar, Bruce stopped at the end of the alley. He slowly turned round and saw his mother slowly fall backwards on to the floor. All seemed to go in slow motion. He ran towards his mother but it felt as if the floor were made of molasses, it didn’t feel real. His mother’s necklace seemed to have been broken as pearls rained down around her. The man now turned his gun towards Bruce, a wicked smile spread wide and his eyes looked like hell fire was burning in them. As Bruce fell to his knees beside his mommy, he heard the man say.  
“The boss said no witnesses, sorry kid!” He then started to cackle. He pulled the trigger, but instead of a bullet finding its way into Bruce, it seemed to blow up. The man’s laughter turned into an agonized howl of pain as he dropped the remains of his gun. Holding his injured hand, he growled at Bruce.   
“Seems your one luck son of a bitch, and she was a bitch kid!” He turned tail and fled. Bruce could see two fingers, blood and the ruined gun on the alley floor. A pearl seemed to be stuck in the barrel. He looked to his father, his eyes open and unseeing. Life had already flown from him. Bruce started to shiver, he could feel a wet warmth spread in his pants, he had unknowingly wet himself with the fear and trauma. He looked at his mother, somehow she was still alive.  
“Bruce...baby,...pudding.” She called to him. He could see a red rose on her chest, he was confused,. He couldn’t remember her wearing a flower?  
“Bruce..honey,” she coughed blood staining her teeth red. “I need you to listen to me.”  
“M-M-Mommy?” The shivering was getting worse. He took hold of his mother's hand, she felt so cold.  
“I need you to do something for me, Bruce. I need you to be very brave….Try to be a good boy, work hard and..” she coughed again, she could barely breath. “Please don’t be like your father… Be a kind man, a good man...oh God...I love you baby...I’m sorry..so sorry. I wanted to see you grow up into a great man. I know you can be….remember we loved you Bruce...Daddy and me...Loved you..” Her words started to fade. Bruce hugged his mommy tightly; he could hear her faltering heartbeat.   
Boom..Boo..Boom  
“Mommy, don’t go...don’t leave me..” he sobbed, his panic rising.  
“Bruce.. My little angel ..I love y..”  
Boom..Bo………………..  
Her eyes closed and her hand dropped away from his. No more heartbeat, all Bruce could hear was his lonely bitter sobs.  
“I promise mommy, I promise..”

BOOM……..BOOM  
Bruce felt cold,  
BOOM……..BOOM  
Bruce felt pain,   
BOOM……..BOOM  
Bruce opened his eye to the darkness.  
He could feel leathery wings wrapped around him. He tried to squirm away from the monster holding him. His limbs felt like lead, he had no energy, he felt very ill. With no discernible strength he allowed himself to tonelessly flop back into the bats embrace. He glanced up looking the creature in its face. A gasp escaped Bruce, he was astonished to see tears pooling in its red eyes. He watched as the tears fell and roll down its furry cheeks. It held him tighter to its chest. He could hear its heartbeat..Boom...Boom. He could smell a faint whisper of April Violets .The bat's tongue tenderly licked away Bruce's tears, the embers of love glowing in its eyes and radiating out to him. It filled him up with warmth. He started to feel very secure and safe in this strange creatures embrace. Its affection felt very familiar to him. He turned and wrapped his arms around it. The scent grew stronger; the bat seemed to be humming a lullaby. Bruce was surrounded by the bat, and the bat was surrounded by Bruce.   
He had no idea of time in this strange cave, all he knew was he no longer felt afraid. He felt strangely whole and complete. If he were to die, he knew his mother would be waiting for him. He could almost hear her, calling to him; shouting his name. He rubbed his face into the soft fur repeating the same phrase.  
“I promise to be good, I promise to be kind. I will be a hero just like you...mommy…..I promise..”

“Bruce.. BRUCE” Alfred’s shouts echoed around the cavern.  
“Mr. Pennyworth, are you sure this is the location? Surely Bruce….” Lieutenant Gordon asked.   
“Don’t ask so many questions. .Of course I'm not. ..I saw the bats...he has to be here. ..Somewhere. BRUCE!!” Alfred had been searching all night. At first he thought Bruce would have come home on his own, yet as night drew in he had become increasingly worried. He had called the Gotham PD. Within the hour a search party had been formed. Alfred had searched all of Bruce's favorite spots. As the light had started to fade, he headed towards the old twisted apple tree. He knew it reminded Bruce of his mother's final painting. He had gone there seeing no sign of the boy. He was pulling out his hair with fear and frustration. As he fell to his knees screaming out Bruce's name, saw a huge colony of bats pour out of a hole in the ground. The bats surrounded him, pulling him towards the hole. As they cleared Alfred heard a moan. He put his face to the hole. It was too dark, he couldn't see anything. “Bruce? Are you down there?” He called. At first there was no response, just an eerie silence. As he was about to leave a soft groan was uttered. Alfred started scratching at the earth surrounding the hole. The ground was baked dry, he didn’t care. His fingers were bleeding by the time; Lieutenant Gordon had caught up with him. He grabbed Alfred shoulder pulling him away from where Bruce lay wounded beneath them.

 

“Mr. Pennyworth! What on Earth are you doing?”  
“I’ve found him! He’s here! Right under us!” He practically screamed in Gordon's face.   
“Mr. Pennyworth, what makes you so sure..?” Gordon started to ask.  
“I heard him! He’s here! Help me get to him...NOW!” He started to claw at the Earth again.   
“Mr., Pennyworth...Mr. Penny..Alfred! Calm down...Listen to me..” Alfred stopped and cocked his head.  
“I’m radioing this in, and a man will be left here pinpointing the location. A team will go into the cave systems and do a thorough search. I promise we will find him.” 

Here they were in the caves, Alfred’s voice had grown hoarse from shouting, and the GCPD were on the verge of calling off the search. It had been over eighteen hours since Bruce had disappeared. Hope was running thin. A novice police officer whispered to Gordon that maybe they should go back and regroup. Unfortunately Alfred overheard.  
“What? What was that you just said?!” Alfred stormed over. He pushed his face into the young man’s.  
“I-I-I..” The young man gulped.  
“I-I-I...That’s what I thought...Now you listen to me.” Alfred pressed his nose to the young man’s in a very aggressive manner. His blood was boiling and a red haze had covered his vision.  
“Alfred, I don’t think..” Gordon began  
“I don’t give a FLYING FUCK WHAT ANY OF YOU WANKERS WANT! WE KEEP LOOKING FOR BRUCE OR, I’LL PERSONALLY FUCK EACH AND EVERYONE ONE OF YOU TOO DEATH! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?! DO YOU!!!???”. His voice echoed all around, His breath came in short rasps. He meant every word he had said. 

As the echoes faded an unearthly screech was heard. Everyone stopped what they were doing. Another screech was heard, undulating and loud. Everyone there remembered that sound for as long as they lived. Some would wake in the night years later, covered in sheen of sweat, the fear of that hellish noise forever haunting them. Some were inspired by it and some like, Gordon and Alfred at an unconscious, level knew what it was that called. They both at that moment made a vow to the Gotham Bat.   
“I have to be a better man. Always uphold the law no matter the cost,..I promise.” Gordon silently vowed. He headed towards the sound.  
“I will always be the father Bruce, needs and deserves. I promise to dedicate my life to him, my heart and my soul.” Alfred ran towards the sound.  
Alfred entered the cave first, he saw Bruce lying motionless on the ground, and he ran to him and dropped to his knees next to him.   
“Bruce, Bruce?” He took hold of him gently, pulling him close. He was so still and cold. Fear gripped his heart, was he too late?   
“Bruce...please! Oh Bruce, come on son...pleasepleaseplease” Was all he could say as his tears fell on Bruce's face. Gordon put his hand on Alfred's shoulder in a gesture of comfort.  
“McLane, radio in our, position and tell them to send down a stretcher. The boy's been found but..” Gordon was about to say Bruce had been found DOA, but at that moment Bruce opened his eyes.  
Bruce looked at Alfred, he was confused. Where was he? Where had his bat gone? What was happening?  
“Bruce...Oh thank God!” Alfred lifted him to his chest. He hugged Bruce tightly.  
“Thank you! I’ll never let anything happen to you ever again. I love you so much, so, so much.” He kissed Bruce over and over again. He wouldn’t let go of him until the paramedics had arrived. Bruce however just stared into the opening of the cave. A tall shadowed figure stood there, unseen by anyone but him. Its eyes glowed red, they never left Bruce. He smiled at it, even as the paramedics took him away.   
“I promise…” was all Bruce would say. 

“I promised..” Bruce’s deep voice echoed around the cave. It had been so long since he had ventured here. His memories were a confused jumble of that time. He had been ill for many months; his recovery had been very slow and painful. His leg had been broken in two places, and needed to be bolted together. His first scars! He had half remembered dreams of a giant bat. He didn’t know if they were real or not. No one else had seen it, so it may very well not be real. The one thing he knew was real ..His promise. Why had he come back here?  
“I broke my promise,” He confessed.   
“I tried to help him….I didn’t know. He fell...I had his hand...he...I..” Bruce’s voice cracked. He couldn’t get rid of the images. How he had screamed as he fell into the huge vat of bubbling chemicals. How he had screamed too, unable to stop it from happening.  
“I ...I killed him!....Oh Jack! I’m so sorry!” A sob escaped his lips, as sorrow wracked his body.  
“I failed him..Gotham...you!”  
A gentle wind blew around him, the smell of April Violets wafted towards his face. He looked up as he felt something softly brush against him. He looked around, he couldn’t see much. It was still the darkest part of the bat cave. He heard a soft chittering above him. He craned his head back. Thousands of small brown bats were roosting, each one fluttered their wings.   
“BRUCE..” He heard his name gently whispered in the darkness. The smell of violets was stronger.  
“Mother?” Bruce strained his eyes looking, hoping to see her.   
“Bruce? What on Earth are you doing here?”  
Bruce jumped out of his skin, he quickly turned around, and there stood Alfred.  
“Alfred? Jees! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Bruce exclaimed.  
“Sorry sir, I didn’t know where you were. I have some new; Commissioner Gordon has just rang to inform you that there has been a robbery at the Hilton Hotel. Are you ok sir? I know I gave you a fright but…” Alfred noticed the ghastly pallor of his beloved sons face.  
“I’ll be fine Alfred. I was just lost in thought. No need to worry old man.”  
“Well, if you’re sure...may I ask why you’re here?”   
“I don’t know, visiting some old ghosts.” Bruce smiled at his father figure. What would he be without him?  
“I’ll be up soon Alfred. Could you make me a cup of tea please?”  
“Of course sir. Oh and sir?” Alfred stopped and turned back to Bruce.  
“A little less of the “Old” please!” He chuckled as he left.  
Bruce turned to leave this place of memories, when out of the corner of his eye he saw something move. He took a step into the cave, he squinted.   
A shadow moved in the darkness, a large figure with gentle glowing red eyes. Bruce stood frozen. A quiet descended on the cave, all the bats had ceased in their movements.  
“Bruce..” He heard his name whispered by the shadow.  
“I swear I won’t let you down again. I promise..” At that the bats moved as if on cue. They obscured his vision of the shadow, as they started their nightly hunt.   
Bruce backed away as he heard large wings fly away from him. He quickly left; after all he did have work to do, as the chosen Knight of Gotham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went through so many rewrites! I was never sure if it flowed right.   
> My thanks go to y wonderful sister Emma. She gave me some fantastic ideas, I love you so much.  
> Mellie-arts1987. Thank you for you're continued support an encourgment. Without you I don't think I wpuld have ever started to write.  
> Last but by no means least, my good friend irisbleufic. You have been such an inspriation, and mentor to me. I feel blessed to have a friend such as you. I love and value you.  
> Thank you a million times, and to you too dear readers. I sincerly appricate your kudos.  
> Peace, Love and Empathy xx


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